


No Choice.

by HeyItsHoot



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, F/M, Lovesick Adrien Agreste, Marinette killed some people, Murder, Protective Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Yandere Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-06-26 11:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19767382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyItsHoot/pseuds/HeyItsHoot
Summary: Marinette is a yandere.Ladybug is a school girl savior.Adrien wants to save some kids, but he'll do anything Ladybug asks him to, even if it goes against his own wishes.Loosely themed after Miraculous Ladybug and Yandere Simulator. Both are amazing.





	1. No Choice.

Marinette has never felt emotions the way others did. They laughed heartily, sobbed inconsolably, and raged joylessly, but Marinette could only feel pity.

She pitied their hopeless devotion to each other, their anger. Marinette was free of those emotions, even if she was not able to enjoy that freedom. Others around her found her to be odd for this reason.

Why she could not feel like they seemed to do, nobody seemed to be able to answer. Her mother assured her nothing was the matter, that it wouldn’t last forever. One day, someone would allow her to feel like all the others.

Marinette wasn’t sure she believed her, but couldn’t really change anything either way, so she ignored it.

Her father had an entirely different approach. He felt that if he flooded her world with things children seemed to love, Marinette would smile as they had.

He gave her toys, bought her sweets, even moved them to a bakery so they could be surrounded by the goods. Supposedly, he’s mistaken her proficiency with baking and cooking as a love of it, Marinette didn’t know. In return, she made a choice.

If she played nice, pretended to enjoy living her life as others did, it would be easier. And, it was. Her father seemed to light up, joyous that his daughter finally could be normal.

Her mother just looked at her, charming smile in place, and Marinette felt something different. Not emotionally but, her chest seemed tight. Her eyes narrowed, attempting to decipher what had changed. The eyes that stared back were indeed her mother’s eyes, but Marinette could recognize that something was off.

Two years later, Marinette realized what it was.

School had never been a complication when compared to everything in her life. It was a place to spend her days, a routine to make her seem normal. She faked her enjoyment of some classes, feigned distaste for others. She made friends, people who liked the way her false smiles made them feel secure in themselves.

With every new friend, her father grew more and more comfortable. It didn’t particularly matter to her, nothing really did, but it was convenient. He left her to her own devices.

If her mother was right, she needs her own space. It was better to establish it now before something happened and she had nothing to ease it.

Then, school started up again.

She was in the same class as the previous year, along with a girl who seemed to like her fake reactions. Chloé Bourgeois was an entitled girl with too much makeup and a nasty attitude, and she had a love of bullying other students, Marinette included.

Marinette didn’t particularly mind the girl. She was an inconvenience, but the world was full of those. However, she had to pretend more than ever around her. She learned to cry on command, learned to fake anger, and a small dose of fear.

She learned by copying her classmates, watching as they recoiled from Chloé. It seemed almost too easy to satisfy her cravings for the misery of others.

The first day of school was nothing out of the ordinary. Marinette took the box of sweets from her Papa, made her way to school, after saving an old man from a car, and took her normal seat. Of course, the ordinary events of this made no impression on Chloé Bourgeois, who demanded she move from her seat to the one beside a new student in the class.

Of course, Marinette didn’t want to move. She could see perfectly from where she was sitting, and there was no reason to sit beside a new student when she had plenty of stand in friends.

Still, Chloé wasn’t going to back down. The new girl came to her, apparent, rescue, dragging her away and spilling her sweets. Marinette made it seem like it was her own fault to avoid more annoyances, and took the seat as told. If she could feel emotions normally, Marinette thinks she would...hate Chloé Bourgeois. Yes, that sounded like the right word.

The girl introduced herself as Alya after a few sentences were exchanged, and Marinette offered her friendship with the remaining sweet. If she was interested in being her friend, Marinette wasn’t going to stop her. She seemed like an interesting ally to have.

The rest of the day was boring, full of school work and getting-to-know-you games. Alya seemed determined to be her friend, and, as far as the other girl knew, she was.

Everything was simple.

The next day was not. Chloé Bourgeois had a friend, one who finally showed up. He drew attention from everyone in the room, and placed gum on Marinette’s seat. She decided that if she could have feelings for people, Alya would have her positive ones, and he would have all her negatives. At least Chloé had known her. He hadn’t even met her.

That day, of course, wasn’t ordinary.

Adrien, Marinette picked up his name amongst the chatter, was a rich kid. Two rich kids with little to no security were easy pickings. Even Marinette was better protected with a small knife concealed in her bag. Her mother was insistent. Her father did not know.

They were both taken hostage during class, armed assailants bursting through the doors. Everyone scattered, Alya pulling Marinette to safety, and they were held in the room.

Marinette called home, wanting to secure her mask as a scared student. All the other kids were doing the same. Her mother picked up.

Marinette would look back on this day in the future for many reasons, and this phone call would always play a key role.

Her mother, sugary sweet voice curved around double edged words, suggested she kill them. If Marinette allowed herself to be hurt, possibly killed, she would never feel the things she was supposed to. Marinette wasn’t sure she believed those words, but the chance was too high. She wasn’t going to let some gutter trash take away her future. This was an inconvenience she wasn’t willing to entertain.

Marinette snuck away from the library where everyone was hiding, heading for the theater room. If she was going to get rid of them, she couldn’t very well have her face out. She’d be arrested, savior or not.

She grabbed a mask, plain black, and pulled a janitor costume on. It was better they not know she went to school here if she could help it. Marinette’s knife was small, inefficient, but it would have to do. They wouldn’t wait for her, so she moved down the hall towards the classrooms they’d ducked into.

Marinette, knife in hand, snuck through the door, staying low, and tried to make a plan. Three kidnappers, one hostage. Chloé. Where was the boy? Marinette made a note and pushed the thought away. Less people to worry about recognizing her.

Speaking of, she considered removing the bands from her hair. Pigtails weren’t exactly common, but loose hair meant another way to be grabbed and it could obstruct her vision.

Bourgeois was crying, whining about her father. Marinette almost left, let them have her, but the risk to herself was too great to let it go on any longer. She stood, swaying a little as she prepared to attack.

Two guns were raised, turned to her, and the last pressed against Chloé’s head. She only seemed to get louder. Marinette would have to be fast so she’d shut up.

She raised her knife, eyes focused and stance ready. For a moment, nobody moved. Then, the door smacked the wall, shoved open by someone else. Marinette wasn’t stupid enough to turn away from the guns, throwing herself down behind a few desks that had been pushed aside. She risked a glance, seeing another person doing the same two rows back. He matched her, a black mask on his face, but wore the standard boy’s uniform.

He caught her eye, bullets flying all around them, and flashed a knife maybe an inch bigger than hers. This was more than just inconvenient. It was a problem, one she would have to deal with later.

The bullets paused, a telltale shuffle of reloading being heard, and Marinette made her move, jumping the desk and shoving the knife into the closest one’s throat, blood pooling over her fingers. It felt…

The other student, her unwanted partner, was on her tail, pressing his blade to the other man’s throat rather than killing him. Marinette internally huffed, shoving her victims body back, and yanking the gun from her partner’s hostage, pointing it at the other man.

Chloé was basically having a mental breakdown at this point, lip swollen, gun to her head, hands gripping her hair. Marinette memorized it. She felt nothing, not even pity, the one emotion she seemed capable of.

Her partner wanted everyone to live. This was a problem. Marinette said nothing, not even when he whispered for advice. She waited, watched, analyzed. When the man holding Chloé got nervous, he shifted. His finger moved. Marinette stared him down, her aim true and hands steady. He shifted, and she shot. He smashed against the wall, dropping the gun, and Chloé Bourgeois scurried away with tears pouring down her face.

Marinette turned, ready to kill both her partner and the last attacker, but the police, who’d arrived earlier and had come running while they were under fire, were shouting and stapeding towards the room. She had no time. Kill them both and be arrested, or escape. She chose.

“Did you see them?!” Alya caught her before class the next day. Marinette had run off, shoving her bloody costume and the mask into her bag before running home. Her mother covered for her, as Marinette knew she would, and helped her clean the costume. It would have to be returned most likely.

“See what?” Marinette had an inkling she knew what was happening.

“The guys who saved Chloé yesterday! It was so cool!” Alya shoved her phone into Marinette’s face, and she let a puff of air leave her. Unexpected.

Alya’s phone showed a video of, presumably Alya herself, running up the stairs towards gun shots. It was the room they’d been in. Alya had captured them on recording, killing two people and rescuing Chloé Bourgeois.

Marinette was sure this wouldn’t be a problem. If it was, it would mean Alya, and anyone who saw the video, would have to be eliminated.

“Aren’t they so cool?!” Alya was elated, eyes shining and face flushed.

“They killed two people, and took another hostage.” Marinette blanked.

“Yeah, but to save us all, including Chloé Bourgeois. And, you know how nasty she is. They risked their lives for her!” Alya was wrong, but sweet and perfect Marinette wouldn’t know that. She would be positive about this.

“You’re right, Alya. Gosh, we should be so grateful. They must be really brave!”

“See, I knew you’d see it my way.”

Marinette knew this was an idea that was going to earn her a lot of backfire, but she had a reason to get her spot back now. Yesterday’s events gave her a reason to stand up to Chloé Bourgeois. One day, when she could feel the way she was supposed to, she could look back on this. Maybe she would feel bad. But, Marinette of today wouldn’t.

They took the seats behind Nino, and Adrien when he would arrive. Of course, Chloé made a scene, but Marinette matched her for every shot, and, in the end, Marinette and Alya had their seats.

It rained that day, and Marinette couldn’t afford to get her bag wet. Convenience of space was traded for lack of water protection. Adrien, of course, had been leaving at the same time. She paid him no mind at first, until he began to speak, umbrella displayed proudly.

He apologized, told her his story, and held out his umbrella to her. Everything shifted. Her chest was tight, her face hot, and her knees shook. She wasn’t cold, or sick, but this was not normal.

Her fingers grazed his, and Marinette worried for a second that she’d been struck by lightning, sparks electrifying her skin. The umbrella closed on her, and he laughed. She wasn’t annoyed, but captivated. The sound was melodic, warm, inviting. She laughed too as she opened the umbrella again, shocked by it’s escape. It was involuntary, unforced. A real laugh.

He turned to leave, walking down the stairs, and Marinette dropped her bag, too...caught up in whatever this was to hold onto it anymore. Her heart pounded, and, for the first time in her life, she _felt._ She felt so many things, a wave of emotions she couldn’t name or seperate smashing into her.

_Adrien._

He was the person, the one who would allow her to be normal. Adrien was her person. She had found him.

Marinette allowed the feelings to surround her as she looked in the mirror that night, and then let her smile melt off her face. He had been taken hostage yesterday, nearly killed and she never would have felt this way. She felt a new emotion, one she'd rarely had to fake around Chloé. Rage. Her eyes met her own in the mirror, and she finally understood her mother. Marinette knew now why her mother looked at her differently, why she saw right through her. She recognized her mother's gaze in the mirror now, cemented into her own.

Adrien had almost been taken from her loving embrace a mere day ago. That couldn’t happen. Marinette had to have him. Nothing would stand in her way. Adrien would be hers.

He had no choice in the matter.


	2. Eyes On Me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Marinette smiled soft and sweet, feeling the electricity from his skin touching hers as she picked up the pin.
> 
> He had touched this. Adrien. Her Adrien."

Sabine Cheng wasn’t surprised when Marinette smiled at dinner that night, her joy too much to contain. Marinette was lost in her thoughts of Adrien, wondering what he was eating for dinner, if he would ever enjoy dinner with her family. Her mother made no comments, but Marinette picked up on it.

It was different now, knowing that her mother was like her. Of course, she couldn’t prove it, but nothing really needed to be said. It didn’t affect Marinette, so she chose to let it be.

Marinette couldn’t dwell on it for too long. She needed to prepare for what was to come.

Adrien would always be in danger. He was a high priority, especially with his close relation to the Bourgeois family. Marinette would have to protect him at all costs, and that meant finding out who was a threat and eliminating them.

The guy who they let go was found to be acting alone, save for the two dead guys. She crossed him off her mental list. Marinete would deal with him if he ever became an issue, but chose not to concern herself with him for now. Next, her partner.

There was no doubt for Marinette that he had some sense of justice in him. She’d gotten away with killing two people the other day, but from his standpoint, he probably assumed it was necessary. If he stuck around, found her doing questionable things, there was no telling what he’d do about it.

If he was the vigilante type as she assumed he was, he was a loose cannon she couldn’t afford to have around. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt for now. If he showed up again, Marinette would have to take care of him.

Emotions or not, Adrien was her only priority. Nobody would be allowed to interfere with that.

Marinette was a talented designer. This wasn’t hard to understand. One look at her room, you’d see the influx of materials and sketches all around. Marinette couldn’t say she liked doing it, only that it was easy. Simple. Useful.

She made quick work of the night hours, giving up sleep in order to be prepared. Marinette would need a mask at the least. Adrien would have a high chance of accidentally seeing her face, and he most likely wouldn’t take kindly to her killing people.

Her uniform would have to do, considering if Marinette had to take care of someone in the school, it would be too hard to hide evidence like a bloody costume. She settled for hiding a backup uniform in her bag. She wasn’t an expert, but this was all she could do for now. As the sun began to rise, what she had would work for now.

At least now the mask wasn’t flimsy, and couldn’t be tracked anywhere. A simple red fabric would work well enough to ease suspicion.

“Marinette, honey!” Her mother pushed the trap door open, and look around at the chaos in the room. “Breakfast is ready. Don’t forget to clean up. Your father won’t like this if he finds out, okay sweetie?”

The threat in her mother’s voice was clear.

“Yes mom.” Marinette packed her bag, uniform hidden under books, and began to clean up the mess. When she headed downstairs, her mother handed her the small knife, cleaned and sharp, along with a small pouch. Inside, Marinette found a string attached to two pieces of wood.

“It’s a garrote wire. Use it wisely.” Her mother informed, pushing her daughters hands down as Tom Dupain entered the kitchen. To anyone else, it would look like she’d smuggled her a sweet instead of a weapon. “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning Papa.” Marinette slipped the items into her skirt pockets and sat down at the table with her father.

“Morning girls. Marinette, are you sure you don’t need me to walk you? It’s right across the street.” Tom looked worried, still on edge that his daughter’s class had been attacked.

“Honey, she can handle herself.”

“It’s okay, dad. I’ll be okay.” They ate their breakfast, Marinette more eager than ever, and talked about insignificant things. When she was done, she practically left skid marks with how fast she left.

She couldn’t wait to see Adrien again.

Marinette wasn’t sure what it was, but stepping into school felt different. She felt like someone was watching her, analyzing her, eating away at her emotional mask. She didn’t think it was a smart idea, whoever was attempting to scare her. She wasn’t frightened.

Alya, joyful as always, met her after a few minutes of waiting around, trying to find out who was staring. Marinette grinned at her, genuinely happy for once since Adrien would be there soon. Her friend noticed the genuineness in the smile, and questioned her. To say she was shocked was a lie. Alya seemed to be an expert in people.

Marinette didn’t mind the playful teasing, choosing to embrace it as part of her new life, and pushed all thoughts of people ogling her aside. Adrien had arrived.

His bodyguard had joined him up the stairs to the entrance, and Marinette quickly memorized his face before allowing herself to swoon over her beloved.

Adrien looked happy, perhaps a little worried after the previous few days events, but happy nonetheless. Marinette felt her shoulders relax, and her heart beat against her ribcage. These new feelings were abstract, so new to her that overwhelming her was easy. Her fingers twitched, a longing in her stomach she couldn’t put a name to.

Alya, ever observant, picked up on her newfound interest within moments. She put a name to the feelings; a crush. It was an incorrect term for her feelings, Marinette felt so much more than just a silly crush, but she couldn’t exactly tell Alya, even if the girl seemed to idolize the two so called heros from the previous attack.

“Adrikins!”

Ah, there she was.

Marinette had waited for this girl to appear, and, like clockwork, there she was.

The Bourgeois girl was a nuisance. Proud, arrogant, judgemental, and spoiled, all were terrible aspects for a person to have. But, the one that was going to get her killed was her inexplicable love of Adrien.

Marinette’s Adrien.

And that, well, that just wouldn’t do.

She couldn’t love him like Marinette could, did.

Alya’s voice yanked Marinette from her inner thoughts, causing her to take notice of her tense stance, her hands tightly wound in her skirt, teeth pressed harshly together. Ignoring the blonde girl, Marinette focused on the object of her affections, and willed herself to relax in the emotions he made her feel.

The bell sent them scrambling to class, Adrien’s mountain of a bodyguard retreating to the car. Marinette would have to do research into his family.

“Dupain-Cheng.” The brat had returned, hand placed on her hip to establish that she felt entitled. Marinette found herself not caring even more than usual. After all, Adrien was looking at her.

Chloé could talk down to her all she liked, but Marinette’s attention was not on her. Instead, her cheeks were flushed and knees had turned to jelly under the gaze of the blonde boy. Alya stepped in, a gesture Marinette valued as it gave her time to sit down behind Adrien and avoid falling under the emotions she felt.

“That’s so rude-!”

“Can it, Bourgeois.” Alya took her seat, hand grabbing Marinette’s to offer a consoling squeeze. “She’s just a bully, don’t let her get in your head.”

Marinette wasn’t paying attention. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and the feeling of being watched seeped into her bones. It was as if someone was looking straight through her, revealing her secrets, and Marinette did not find that amusing.

If someone was trying to threaten her, Marinette would have to show them just who they were messing with. Adrien must be protected. She couldn’t lose him, lose the way he made her feel. She loved him, needed him.

She squeezed Alya’s hand back, smiling weakly, and trying to listen as their teacher stepped forward. Marinette could still see bullet holes in the wall behind her.

Marinette felt a haze fall over her when Adrien left for lunch. She knew she should too, that she would need her strength, but work had to be done.

First, the costume. Marinette sneaked back into the theater room, replacing the costume. She checked around for any sign of the mask her partner had used, finding nothing, and left just as quickly. Next came breaking into Adrien’s locker, which she did efficiently and quietly.

She took pictures, not wanting to alert him that someone had been there. A picture of a woman hung under a magnet on the door. She looked familiar, quite similar to Marinette’s love. Probably his mother. She’d look into it.

Spare clothes, books, and a little pin hidden inside. A ladybug shaped jewel rested at the end. He liked ladybugs. Marinette smiled soft and sweet, feeling the electricity from his skin touching hers as she picked up the pin.

He had touched this. Adrien. Her Adrien.

She placed it back, closing the locker and pressing her cool fingers against the lock. He touched this.

Marinette backed away, hand flying to her knife concealed within a secret pocket of her skirt. Someone was here. She could feel their eyes on her, and waited, silent.

A step, one behind her and to the left. Marinette turned, knife hidden in her palm. “Come out.”

They stepped into view, two eyes staring emotionlessly back into hers. Marinette recognized the look, and flicked out the knife. The other person did the same with their own pocket knife, and stared with that blank look. Marinette found herself thinking of her mother’s eyes, of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys liked this so much I decided to continue it.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. Did I actually spend days writing this because I have no self control? Yep. May continue this, but it's just a draft and I' not sure if I'm ready to continue. For now, this is what I have.


End file.
